


Log Cabin

by germany



Series: FrUK New Years Gift [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FrUKnewyears2015, M/M, Skiing, Snow, Winter, Winter storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/germany/pseuds/germany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Formatting this took quite a bit of work, so I apologize if there's any mistakes at this point, on either format.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Log Cabin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [excessnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessnight/gifts).



> Formatting this took quite a bit of work, so I apologize if there's any mistakes at this point, on either format.

Before long it would be necessary for him to get a plastic mouth guard with the severity of his teeth grinding to distinctly show just how annoyed he was if not at the entirety of humanity then the sadistic ways that fate punished him for seemingly nothing. The sound of his teeth creaking as they pressed together gave him some sort of satisfaction as he paced his room trying to think of a way to plan this visit without simply canceling it and returning home. The very thought of returning to his dreary, familiar home with such reason made him growl aloud in defiance. This was supposed to be a nice vacation, but of course there would be nothing nice when it came to his life, that was obvious so far. Even when he manages to get away from everything—the countries, the meetings, the papers, he’s bothered by something that is far worse than all of those things combined.

To add insult to injury, it didn’t seem like the reason of his distress would be leaving anytime soon either. Whether it was his pride or it was his idiocy, it seemed that if he did not leave, he would be stuck with the man with no escape other than the snow.

The snow! That was it; he had no true reason to be complaining. All he had to do was focus on the vacation and not worry himself with something as insignificant as an immature, unsuccessful, impudent, disastrous, simplistic, uncultured, bitter, annoying, foul, argumentative, vain narcissist. Ignoring idiots had become like a sport to him through the years, and by God he would use the talent if it was the last thing he did. It would be easy to avoid the other man, ordering room service and skiing in the early mornings and near dusk. It was almost so easy that he scolded himself for the outrageous way that he had reacted without an ounce tact. Now relief flooded through him, and he made his way to the phone to begin his plan with a nice dinner via room service.

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning he had successfully eluded the attention of anyone he deemed unnecessary and, to his own astonishment and relief, not one strand of wavy, seemingly perfect hair had made its way into his vision since he had woken up at the crack of daylight. It wasn’t hard for him to wake up that early, on the contrary, he often awoke at that time on his days to work or even his days off! There was absolutely no exception to a Frenchman’s laziness that would allow him to awake any sooner than noon, he was sure of it. With a contented sigh, he sat back into his chair and enjoyed the view with a sip of warm and inviting tea, awaiting his lunch and preparing to rest until before sunset so that he could enjoy the frozen, crisp nature without fear.

With such a calm composure, no one would be able to discern the nervous nature he actually acted with, and the way that ever sound put him further into the edge, as if he was terrified of running into the only person in the world he would avoid so thoroughly (except, perhaps, Russia). If it was ever brought up to him, he would scoff and say as he’s recited multiple times “you would avoid someone you’ve gone to war with so many times as well!” sounding as if he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince the other party.

The knock on the door even startled him, but he pretended that it was just unexpected and thanked all that was holy that the tea did not splash all over his new, nice vest that looked exceptionally well on him that he had wanted to show to the other guests and the locals of the resort but obviously that was now out of question and he instead wore it for his own comfort and enjoyment. Sitting down his tea, he went to check who was at the door before opening it to accept his lunch and tip the employee who had brought it to him. Once they had turned he instantly closed himself off once again.

For the third time since he had arrived here, he sat alone in his room and ate a meal he had delivered. In a few hours, he would nap and then order an early dinner so that he could go out and ski once again.

 

* * *

Around seven is when he left, noticing that most skiers were retiring for a late dinner and a relaxing sit near the fire and no doubt a refreshing, hot tea. Rather than stick around the resort and chat with the other guests for fear of running into someone that he would rather not or even the chance of hearing something that he would rather not (likely about the man's exploits or from the man’s exploits), he slipped out quickly, not even waving good bye to the lovely woman at the check in counter. The feel of the cool air on his skin and the sight of the sun, close to setting, filled him with an excitement like no other and he hastily began his trek to the ski lift that would take him to the top of the mountain in a jiffy. The snow beneath his feet was not so deep that moving was difficult, perhaps only a half a foot. However it was difficult not to notice the light flow of snow, flakes sometimes managing to slip down his cheek, melting instantly due to his heat.

Just the cool air surrounding him and filling his lungs gave him a great peace, and caused a simple smile as he made his way up, and it persisted as he got onto the lift. The gentle movement only helped his mood--this vacation was honestly the best idea he had in years. Glancing over his shoulder, and down to the mountain below he also took solace in the fact that there was no one else there, not even because of the reason he was out so late, just because he wasn’t pressured one way or another within his loneliness.

Once he had reached the top of the mountain, he pushed himself off of the lift and steadied himself on the slippery slope before him. He noticed it was getting more difficult to see as he slid his goggles down to cover his eyes; the snow was coming down harder than it was at the base of the mountain. Looking up at the dark clouds, he got a little worried, but he decided he wouldn’t let anything ruin his time here, not even a bit of snow--and he pushed off.

When you do this, the speed takes you, and the air truly feels like it is your lungs. If he wasn’t heading straight for a tree, he would have closed his eyes to allow himself the moment that he deserved after the stress of the day. To him, it seemed like at night the mountain was even more engrossing, and the snow along with the winds pressing him forward only helped with the natural beauty. With a quick burst he thrust himself quicker down the slope of the mountain, adrenaline rushing through his veins while he avoided a few trees. Thankfully he was not a maniac and therefore did not insist on going on the most difficult track, but he also was not absolutely inept and because of that he didn’t go for the most simple track.

It was nearly two minutes before he noticed that perhaps the snow was coming down a bit too hard and that the wind was beginning to throw him off course. At this point he was at least 200 meters away from the bottom of the mountain, and the snow just progressively got worse as he continued downward and now began to impair his vision enough to worry him that there may be a terrible problem. In this panic he slowed himself and looked through the flurry desperately for a place that he could go to--these mountains were notorious for restaurants and small lodges to be speckled across them. There were no lights in sight however and all he saw was a small building near one of the poles for the ski lifts. Filled with a fear that he may not make it, he hastily made his way to the cabin.

Throwing the door open, he saw that it was as unoccupied as it had seemed from the sullen nature of it outside. There were no lights, but it was better than being out in the hazardous weather. Waddling his way inside, he slammed the door behind him and pulled out his phone. Almost ironically it had no signal, and with a huff he turned on the flashlight so that he could properly get a look at the place around him. There was a bed in the corner with a thick-looking blanket, a table with two chairs, and a few lamps scattered about. Most important was the furnace in the corner and he hurried over to it to check if it had an means to be lit. Thankfully there was a log sitting within and, to his memory, there were a few outside next to the cabin. It may have been a trick of the eye however, and he rummaged around for a way to start the fire.

Thankfully he found a fire starter in a drawer next to the bed, and he lifted it up in triumph at almost the exact moment the door was opened forcefully. The surprise caused him to drop the starter and yell out from fear, but he had no clue what to do as the thickly-layered being threw their self inside and slammed the door behind them.

“C-Can I, uh... help you?” England asked with confidence, not bothering to kneel down and reach for what he had dropped and instead finally noticed that his goggles were beginning to obscure his vision in the low light and pushed them up his head. It didn’t help at all with identifying the person in front of him, they were puffed with the amount of clothing they wore and had goggles and a hat that even covered their eyebrows. Despite this it was obvious when they looked at him, looked him over, looked around, and then back to him. Still, the hadn’t said anything!

“Excuse me, bu-”

“England, is that you? Well, of course it is, look at your eyebrows… What are you doing here?” They--he had interrupted him, and the accent instantly sent a flame to his belly and anger rushed through him, only becoming worse when the statement processed past the atrocious voice stinging his ears.

“Frog, what are you doing here?!” The Briton choked out, a hand reached up to press against his forehead in annoyance, “for God’s sake!”

France took off his goggles and hat simultaneously, an incredulous look covering his face as he stared at the other country beside the bed, before shaking his head and saying with a smile, “I do believe I asked you first, did I not?”

England growled and bent down to pick up the fire starter instead of answering and walked over to  the furnace, angrily wrenching the door open so that he could look back inside. Along with the fire starter he had found a lighter, but he still had to go out and grab some wood, especially before it got worse. An idea came to him that would keep him inside, however--and perhaps he should explain the situation to the other anyways.

“There’s wood outside on the east wall of this cabin,” he started, not making eye contact and instead walking back to the side table to grab the lighter out. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab some so we don’t freeze to death?” Without waiting for an answer he took off his gloves and sat them down before going back to the furnace and beginning to work on the fire.

Without a word, he heard the door open and close behind him. Once it was closed he let out a sigh. This was going to be a very long night, wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Between you and me, this is supposed to have a lot more italics, but because they did not paste I did not bother with them. Sorry, some emphasis may be lost, but you can always make your own!


End file.
